Companion poem to chapter 4 of the R.M. Dolin novel, "What Is to Be Done"
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Can anyone survive
the desperation of darkness
without being scared by the depths
of utter depravity.
Who can say how
heroes are born,
or what kind of moments
are made from impulse.
It's only after
consequence is removed
from the calculus of causation
that any of this can
even ever makes sense.
Jake and the boys thought of themselves as desperadoes because they’re playing poker at the Al Azar on Cinco de Mayo in defiance of the governor’s lockdown order. Fate, however, has other ambitions as a women fleeing her human traffickers’ bursts into the bar hoping to find refuge. No one could have predicted Dario, Armando, and even Jake would step up, at considerable risk, to secure her freedom; at least for now.
